


Golden

by swatkat



Category: DCU
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Team-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swatkat/pseuds/swatkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>'No, Girl Blunder, <i>she </i>isn't here yet. Which, by the way, is none of your business because <i>she </i>asked for <i>Batman's </i>assistance, and since Batman—'</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

  
Writing has been hard lately. But with September just around the corner, I wanted to talk about some of the things I'll miss in the DCnU. ♥

 **Title:** Golden  
 **Fandom:** DCU  
 **Character(s):** Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson, Diana of Themyscira  
 **Words:** ~1,400 words  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Disclaimer:** The characters don't belong to me. I will never make money off this.  
 **A** / **N:** No specific spoilers beyond the events of _Batman RIP_ and _Wonder Woman #600_ ; ignores _Odyssey_.

  
 **Summary:** _'No, Girl Blunder, _she_ isn't here yet. Which, by the way, is none of your business because _she_ asked for _Batman's_ assistance, and since Batman—'_

 _'Stolen Amazon artifact, yadda yadda yadda, I know,' Stephanie interrupts. Damian _hates_ being interrupted. 'O tracked it down for her.'_

  
+

He _hears_ her at first: a shuffle of movements as she lands on the rooftop (clumsy), lumbering footsteps announcing her presence as though stealth _isn't_ a requisite in their line of work.

'Your presence isn't required,' Damian tells her, without taking his eyes off his field glasses. He has been in position for an hour now—early, always early, as his father would no doubt be—carefully concealed in the shadows beside the grotesque stone figure, keeping an eye on the club premises.

The club, that is, the Boudoir, one of the so-called exclusive nightspots in Gotham where the useless city elite spend their nights in gross extravagance, owned by none other than Oswald Cobblepot—the Penguin. Every now and then, the club doubles as an auction house, wherein Cobblepot peddles a variety of ill-gotten merchandise.

'Hey to you too, Short Stuff,' Stephanie says, cheerful. She crouches down beside him, blatantly disregarding his words.

Damian scowls. 'Which part of "not required" do you not understand?'

'Is she here yet?' she says, unconcerned.

'No, Girl Blunder, _she_ isn't here yet. Which, by the way, is none of your business because _she_ asked for _Batman's_ assistance, and since Batman—'

'Stolen Amazon artifact, yadda yadda yadda, I know,' Stephanie interrupts. Damian _hates_ being interrupted. 'O tracked it down for her.'

Oracle's continued indulgence, Damian is certain, is one of the principle reasons why Stephanie is so _incorrigible_. It is an unfortunate slip-up on the part of someone who is otherwise so astute. He has occasionally considered having a word with her on the matter.

'In which case you should also know that this is a matter for professionals,' he tells Stephanie, 'Go away.'

In response, she slings a patronizing arm about his shoulder—and Damian should teach her a lesson just for that—and says, 'Did I tell you about the time we teamed up to fight Ivo's Cyber Sirens?'

+

The case itself is a rather straightforward one. Too straightforward: a priceless Amazon artifact, stolen and tracked down to Gotham—to Cobblepot's auction house, to be precise. On any other day Damian would call it beneath Batman and Robin, and let Gordon's men handle the matter.

Only, Wonder Woman had wanted to retrieve the artifact herself. It meant something to her, she'd said.

His father disapproved of metahuman presence in the city, but this, Damian thinks, he would respect.

+

Stephanie chatters incessantly, and Damian is very close to knocking her out just so he can have some quiet when she squeals, with zero regard for propriety or the secrecy of their mission, 'There! I can see her.'

She's in camouflage, of course, a very un-Amazonlike outfit that doesn't quite conceal her regal bearing. Even in the crowd she stands apart, every inch the Wonder Woman: a true warrior and one of his father's most respected associates. Damian has looked forward to this meeting.

Beside him, Stephanie is saying something inane about 'her flawless hair'.

'Try and keep your mouth shut,' Damian says, before grabbing his grapple gun and swinging forth.

The look on Stephanie's face when she finally catches up with him is extremely satisfying.

+

She smiles when she sees them. 'I hope I haven't kept you waiting,' she says, her voice rich and warm. 'Batgirl,' she nods slightly. 'Robin.'

Stephanie opens her mouth—to say something ridiculous, without question—and Damian intervenes swiftly, 'It's a pleasure to finally meet you,' bowing his head. 'Your Highness.'

He means every word. His father would approve.

'Call me Diana,' she says, her smile growing wider. Radiant. 'Shall we go inside? I believe the auction is about to start.'

'Let's go kick some Penguin ass,' Stephanie says brightly, and for once, Damian agrees with her.

(He's less agreeable later when they've blended in with the crowd, waiting for the auction to begin, and a sharp elbow digs into his ribs. 'You _bowed_.'

'Unlike you, I was brought up with manners,' Damian says.

'Could've fooled _me_ ,' Stephanie mutters, and Damian does not dignify _that_ with a response.)

+

The auction is a crass affair: a gaudy necklace, straight from the collection of a former Maharajah; a bejeweled dagger; a pair of diamond studded gold pistols; and so on. Cobblepot struts about the stage, relishing the spotlight.

Damian would very much like to punch him in the face.

Nonetheless, this is Wonder Woman's operation. Damian will wait and watch, follow her lead. He restrains himself—there will be time for all that, later—and makes note of the exits, the henchmen positioned not so discreetly amidst the patrons. Nothing he cannot handle himself.

Damian tenses when the shield—a fine specimen of Amazon craftsmanship; dented in places—is finally put on display, waiting for his cue. Cobblepot raves on about the _priceless antique_. Wonder Woman is a picture of tranquility.

'Excuse me, Mr. Cobblepot,' she says, and he pauses mid-sentence and stares. 'That shield is Amazon property. I can't allow you to auction that.' Her voice is even. Calm. 'That shield, as you know, was crafted by the Amazons and blessed by Athena herself. It once belonged to my mother.'

The entire hall is quiet now, gaping in their general direction. Damian slides the knives out of boots. Cobblepot's mouth hangs open. 'If you hand it over along with the rest of the stolen property, and hand yourself and your people in to the authorities, no harm will come to you,' Wonder Woman smiles. 'You have my word.'

There's a moment of silence as Cobblepot gawps some more, and then he snarls, 'What are you idiots staring at? Throw them out!', gesturing wildly with his umbrella at his underlings.

Everything is chaos after that. Damian swings to action, disarming the nearest of the heavies flailing about with a large gun. From the corner of his eye he spots Stephanie, landing a neat kick on another thug and snatching the gun out of his hand. The thug throws a punch and she ducks—faster now, Damian notes—and knocks him out with the butt of his own gun. Her smile is positively deranged.

At some point in the melee he becomes aware of a figure diving in from the shadows.

'I thought you were busy,' Stephanie says, still grinning.

'I wouldn't miss this for the world,' Grayson replies, matching her manic grin with one of his own.

'Took you long enough,' Damian says.

+

It's the easiest takedown in history.

Four of them—one of them being Wonder Woman—is overkill. Still, it is thrilling to observe Wonder Woman in action, disarming Penguin's henchmen with fluid grace. It is thrilling to watch the golden lasso shoot out and encircle a fleeing Cobblepot as she says, 'I'll take what's mine, Mr. Cobblepot.'

+

Later, they're back on a rooftop, ducking the bright lights and the cameras as Wonder Woman charms the Gotham press (yes, she's happy to be back in Gotham; no, this will not lead to an international incident).

She insists on thanking them all for their support afterwards, and Damian has to endure Stephanie's babble and Grayson's infatuated smile without comment.

It's only a lifetime of discipline that stops him from flinching when Wonder Woman rests a warm hand on his shoulder. 'You do your father proud,' she says, smiling.

'Thank you,' Damian says, formal. He was only doing his duty, as his father would have wanted him to. He does not expect compliments.

He watches her fly away, away, until she is a small speck in the distance.

'You're blushing,' Grayson says, smiling in a way that means he's teasing Damian.

'You were swooning,' Damian snaps. 'And you're just an embarrassment,' he tells Stephanie, because she is.

'She's just so awesome,' Stephanie says, as though determined to prove him right. 'I want to be her when I grow up,' she says with a dreamy sigh.

'With _your_ lack of co-ordination?' Damian snorts.

'I remember the first time I saw her in the Batcave,' Grayson says, now back to smiling that ridiculous infatuated smile of his. 'She was here with Superman on important JLA business.'

Damian tunes out Stephanie's response—beginning with a high-pitched squeak of some sort—and the rest of the conversation, staring out instead into the night sky. The night air is cool, almost pleasant on his face.

+++


End file.
